Last night, in my bed,
As I cried alone in vain,
There were dreams waiting to arrive,
And guide me to a deep blue river's plain!
But, the wet eyelids,
Would not let me sleep,
As it kept complaining,
Of its sarcastic being...
The pillow became,
Like a drenched whore that was naked,
And the dreams had to wait,
Before, to them, I could make it!
As I searched my house,
For some alcohol to sip,
And the food they call junk,
With a gravity to dip...
I recalled the nights,
I used to sleep in my mum's lap,
And with her tired hands,
The way she used to tap!
Of course I could find nothing,
To drink or to eat,
Stomach kept whining,
And the dreams?
Well, they still had to wait to meet.
Then I went into my balcony,
The regular crowd was taking a stroll on the road,
I lit-up my cigarette filled with marijuana,
Thinking it would open my horizons broad...
Ironically, it helped me to a point,
We all call zero,
And I realized,
This fucking bitch,
Is no more my hero!
I was getting restless,
As my water-locked eyes just wouldn't give up,
I wanted to fucking fall asleep,
Greet my dreams,
And Yell...
"Hey, What's up'?
I played with my dog,
I even watched porn for a bit,
But, all that seemed, to be a source of entertainment,
Proved nothing more than reasons to mourn...
I've been awake for 67 hours now,
And these never-ending tears...
Well, for them I've been praying for a drought!
But if you do meet my dreams, somewhere,
Tell them that the dog (me), is running late,
He vows to be here though soon enough,
Coz he did promise you a date!
-Sandeep Verma
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